Pick of the Crop
by Tendency
Summary: Ran, and learning how to play hearts. -RanxGingetsu, midnight drabble, introspective.-


**Summary:** Ran, and learning how to play hearts.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Pairings:** Ran/Gingetsu.  
**Type:** One shot/drabble.  
**Disclaimer:** You all know the jazz.  
**Suggested Listening:** _Waltz (Better than Fine)_, Fiona Apple.

**Notes:** Midnight drabble that has pretty much nothing to do with anything. Again, a few years old now, though I touched it up yesterday and ended up surprisingly happy with the results. :D (Proof pudding that miracles do occur.)

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**Pick of the Crop**  
- tenika

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Gingetsu taught him to play hearts one evening.

This was a strange thing to Ran, who at first had trouble processing the concept at all when that phrase--_learn to play hearts_--struck him with such literal connotations. He couldn't understand why Gingetsu would want to teach him such a thing, not when the only heart in his hands was the man's own. He couldn't lay claim to Kazuhiko (the man was Gingetsu's, his comfort, the only one who would be there when all the clovers had finally withered away), and Oruha was so far thrown to the edges of his life that she hardly mattered. Ran's whole world was composed of this single tall lieutenant, a brick house, used teabags. He'd never had what one might call the pick of the crop.

But of course Gingetsu meant the card game. Ran felt rather silly when this was explained to him. He even blushed.

This was one of Gingetsu's casual evenings, the kind where he came home and sat in the living room with the lights dimmed, tipped his head back on the couch and was thoughtful; when he'd throw away the army paraphernalia and stiff shoulders and unbutton his shirt to his collarbones, creating a V of stiff white fabric which framed pale skin and caught at Ran's eyes and distracted him inconveniently.

The three-leaf joined him in these indulgences whenever the right time arrived, and would oftentimes end up sleeping pressed into the curve of the sofa by the weight of his body, waking in the morning to the false bird chime of the hall clock, or even on the rarest of days to weak sunlight through the clouds, like a miracle.

Gingetsu looked at him that night and made his proposition of hearts, and Ran, blushing at the tips of his ears, agreed to learn. Ran refused very little in this two-person world.

Gingetsu's lesson was hindered when he remembered that the game called for four people when they were merely a pair, but Ran understood well enough once it was explained to him. He laid out sample hands to prove he understood, one on top of the other from the barely-worn deck, until Gingetsu shook his head and nearly smiled. It told Ran to be proud of himself.

They made love on the sofa then, quietly, lit in patches by the glow of the yellow city through the far window, and went to sleep without dressing. Ran, as always, chased after Gingetsu in his exhaustion, never the first to fall asleep; too fixed on the continuous wonders of skin, the way Gingetsu's palms never failed to capture his isolated attention. He felt the man's eyelids and the flat metal holes above his ears where the screws of his glasses typically were fixed and the electricity running through him, the potassium and the calcium carrying signals, and as always was overwhelmingly grateful for everything that he had gained since his escape.

He dreamed about hearts when he closed his eyes; not physical hearts, but the game. He played against A and B--A on his left and B on his right--and Gingetsu, who sat opposite. The game began in nothingness, a void where Ran surveyed his hand critically, pulled out three of his four clubs (the two, seven and knave) and passed them to his right. A accepted them with exceptional grace; B passed him two diamonds and the ace of spades.

"You don't think about me anymore," A said, and put down the two of clubs Ran had just passed, starting the round.

Gingetsu placed the four of clubs without comment.

"You never saw me buried," B lamented, and answered with the six of clubs.

"You know you both have my heart," Ran said evenly, and finished with the three of clubs. The hand went to B. The game continued.

B spent his time losing; seven rounds saw him with ninety-two points, while the stilted conversation dragged on without addition from Gingetsu, who played defensively, trailing with thirteen points after Ran, who led comfortably with six.

He wondered about this dream. He wondered what he was meant to learn from it. He wondered at the double entendres. He began to draw connections, comparisons, _life equals--is neither greater nor less than--a game of hearts, fifty two cards in motion_. He wondered who was winning in his life. He was frightened by the answer.

Once more in control of the hand, Ran played a diamond and was struck with three hearts; he took them very carefully, digging his nails beneath their edges to pull them back through the air, into his otherwise heartless pile.

"Do you hate me?" A asked. Ran passed his answer along in hearts. The hand moved out of his control again.

"You're playing very well," Gingetsu said, his first words in the dream, and made sure the next hand would not go to him.

"Didn't you love me?" B asked, and took the queen.

"Hearts," Ran said. He won the game with an odd number; nine, of which one factor was three. It seemed to be a constant, this revolution of his life around multiples.

A and B were gone, while Gingetsu sat across the table from him and stared. The cards lay ignored between them, paper carcasses, devoid of meaning when left without direction. Ran tilted his head slightly back and looked right through the other man.

"I don't like playing with people's hearts," he said finally. "I don't enjoy it. None of this was ever a game for me."

"Understood," Gingetsu replied coolly. Ran could hear the near-smile in his voice.

"Thank you for teaching me," Ran continued, "but I won't be doing this again. Not when I never even thought my winning was fair. I couldn't help having all the stability. I would have given everything to them if they'd just asked."

"They wouldn't have deserved it."

Ran's eyes narrowed. "Nobody deserves anything. Animals are meant to fight for what they have. Our ability to give is the only thing that separates us."

Gingetsu said nothing.

The three-leaf smiled. "I'm waking up now."

Ran never played hearts again. He had been happy just to learn.

**End**


End file.
